I Screwed Up–Story 1

My wife is going to kill me, again.  By the way, my name is Leo Carroll.  I woke up today in the back of large van that smelled like Patron, BO, and vomit next to two nude, sleeping white fat chicks.  So my hairy, slim, caramel ass opened the back doors, and stumbled out the van.  After catching my breath, I got dressed quietly.  Then I scratched my shaved head and trimmed beard as I try to figure out what makes fat chicks look like Melyssa Ford after shots of Patron.  Looking around, I see we were parked at an abandon gas station surrounded by dirt, mountains, and blue skies.

When the hell did I come to the desert?  Better question: How did I come to the desert? I walked over to the driver seat and saw my good friend Jimmy.  How did he just leave me like that?  Damn.  On the passenger’s seat was the Bible opened to Psalm 133.  He’s been having a problem with his brother, guess those verses struck a nerve or something.  Great, without him, it looks like I’m going to have to tell my wife the truth—soon as I remember what the truth is.

The fat chicks woke up, and started screaming at each other.  Something about “that’s my man” and “No, he’s taking me to New York, he’s my manager.” Whatever, it’ll be easier if I left them behind, hard enough talking about what happened to Jimmy, and I gotta explain two fat chicks? I’m cool! I move Jimmy to the passenger side—the van shook followed by a loud cracking or booming noise.

I ran to the back and the redhead, who looked like a pale skinned, redheaded hippo in Bruce Lee’s fighting position with blood on her foot.  The blonde haired girl was dazed with her face caved in and twitching.

“Say something now Bitch!” the redhead said.

“What the hell are you doing?” I screamed.

As The Blonde died, Redhead said, “No okay, that bitch said you told her you were going take her to New York and leave me here.  And I said ‘fuck that, uh huh, no way, I’m going to New York cause I’m sexier and smaller,’” she was actually bigger, but she just caved a woman head in butt naked with her foot, I’m not arguing.

But as she rambled on, I discovered, I was drinking at Shelly Sholes last night, or afternoon, with Jimmy.  After a several shots, these two fat chicks come through.  Jimmy knew when I get drunk, I love tons of meat on my woman. And my wife is 110 lb.  She is the most beautiful Black woman I ever laid eyes on, don’t get me wrong. But, God, something about enough Patron that will make a fat woman look like hot porn click.  And these two were a good 260 lb apiece easy.

Well, anyways, in order to get in their pants and have a three-some, I told them I’d take them to New York and give them modeling careers.  But Shelly Sholes is in Sacramento?

“Okay, I forgot. Where the hell are we?”

“I dunno, Jimmy said he had to get gas in about 45 miles, that was the last thing I remember because you pulled me the that back and—”

“Umm! wait. 45 miles? Umm, where was that at? About…”

“We just crossed Nevada, I think.”

Son of a baby mama!  Why the hell did he drive to Nevada?  Guess he was trying to make it look believable, but damn, as soon as I took them in the backseat, he shoulda made a U-turn.  Whatever the reason is, I gotta get back home.  I had been trying to work on my marriage with Bev for months now.  See, I know I been cheating a lot, and I pretty sure she was too, though I have no proof yet.  But I’m not losing her; she’s the best thing that ever happened to me.

So, after Redhead put her clothes on, we put The Blonde in the backseat along with Jimmy.  Just then, my wife called.

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